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(Tastes Like) Comfort Food


I found a used copy of The Abyss this weekend.  One of the people I was with was clearly a bit off-put, asking, Um, you liked that movie?

Truth is, I love it.  I'm not about to make any argument about its cinematic greatness here.  It just makes me happy.

And I've been looking for it second-hand on dvd for about a bajillion years now.  Why not just buy it new, you ask?  Blu-ray.  Not that I own one, or even have designs on ever owning one.  But surely something is going to come along that is going to force me to upgrade all the stuff I wanna be able to keep around in case I want to watch it at 3 in the morning.  (It took an interstate move to force me to part with all my tapes.  I couldn't watch them, I no longer had a working VCR, but I needed them, ok?)

Since it's actually been a few years since I've been able to get my fix, I was a little worried my ardor might've cooled. But this evening I settled down with the remote and some less-metaphorical comfort food (a tangerine, a chocolate-dipped shortbread cookie, and yummy coffee) and can gladly report that I can (still) watch Ed Harris and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio fight all night.

Also, I hadn't realized how much all the racing around the doomed space station on my absolute favorite Dr. Who episodes, “The Impossible Planet” and  “The Satan Pit” had obviously evoked all the racing around on the doomed underwater oil rig.  (If you don't happen to like this movie, you should in no way use this comparison as an excuse to miss the DW eps, which are just awesome in every possible way.)

The Abyss is hardly the most embarrassing of my comfort flicks.  I think that dubious honor would have to go to Field of Dreams, which is one of the few movies I can think of where I actually like the film better than the book.  I'm sure my better half would be appalled that I even admitted liking it in public, but she's biased, because she hates baseball with a fiery passion: “the season is too long”, “professional athletes should not have beer guts”, and “wusses call off games for RAIN” are just a few of her favorite complaints.  

(She was clearly fated to be my One True Love, however, because despite these cherished beliefs, she commits to falling asleep on the couch next to me during all the important playoff/Series games and I have full permission to rally cap her as necessary.)

Baseball aside, however, Field of Dreams still has Kevin Costner, and that, in her opinion, is just unforgivable.  I dunno, I can't stand him, either—his character's kind of a schmuck, though, and I think that's why he works for me in that movie.

Of course, if we wanted to get really cringe-y, we could talk Eddie and the Cruisers.  I've never owned that one, though, or even seen it since well before I went to college.  But I have this very clear memory of some period in junior high where it seemed like I could find it on HBO whenever I turned on the TV for months, and I'm pretty sure I watched it every time.  (We could Netflix it, but I find the idea kind of alarming.)

Not all the stuff I could watch over and over requires this much rationalizing, like Serenity and Lion in Winter and Dead Again.  Except I'm sure someone will still come along and think, Wait, you liked...?

All I can say is, Yup.  Tastes good to me.

Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
(Anonymous)
Jun. 6th, 2008 04:24 pm (UTC)
Oh, trashy comfort movies! I identify way too much with this. I need Point Break and Tank Girl and sadly, really awful trashy things like The Hot Chick and Dude, Where's My Car.

And I've come to believe there's not so much to apologize for there. So you go right ahead with your Abyss and your Field of Dreams.

Krista
storybystory
Jun. 6th, 2008 05:13 pm (UTC)
I'm totally with you on Tank Girl, though I hafta admit I haven't seen any of the others you mentioned.

And hey, I've already admitted my obsession with Sam and Dean, and it's not like I copped to having a Soap Opera Digest subscription (which, of course, I so totally do...)

(Anonymous)
Jul. 5th, 2008 03:34 am (UTC)
Hi!
This is Fresca (from gugeo.blogspot.com), and Krista just gave me your bloglink--I am so happy you are blogging!
(And I look forward to reading your work, which Krista also sent me the link to, when I am more alert than I am now, having spent 12 hours finishing my first Kirk/Spock slash vid... Uff da, as they say out here in the Scandinavian Midwest.)

Anyway, this post struck a chord with me because just tonight a friend told me a story that liberated me (it's the 4th of July!) from constantly second-guessing myself, which I've been doing ever since I started watching Star Trek (1960s, TOS) this past January and fell into a daze of love I have yet to recover from.

The thing is, though, as I told my friend, I keep feeling a bit ashamed because I think ST is trashy--or, rather, because I think OTHER PEOPLE will think it's trashy.

(In fact, I don't think it is; I think it is downright Homeric.)

I have this little bit of shame about something I truly love, and that disturbs and baffles me ('cause I thought I'd never go through that sort of shame again. Ha.).

So, my friend said that my delight in Star Trek actually reminded her of something she saw during an LSD trip, back in the day. She was sitting with some friends outside and started to think how much she liked one of them. As she felt her affection for the person, all of a sudden everything she looked at sparkled, and she knew that she was seeing the chemicals of love at work.

I thought, yes, if I could see through the chemical eyes of joy that open wide their pupils when I think about ST, the world would sparkle.
Truly ain't no shame in that.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

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